


Silent protests

by Murdersfriesandgayguys



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Hannibal is Mute, Hannibal is a Mess, Happy Ending, M/M, domestic goddess Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25270648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murdersfriesandgayguys/pseuds/Murdersfriesandgayguys
Summary: Hannibal Lecter has not spoken in over a week after being shown a particular case file and has locked himself up in his study.Will Graham saves the day.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 224





	Silent protests

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore Hannibal's mutism in a short fic. This is shamelessly fluffy and domestic so I hope you all like that sort of thing!
> 
> I want to state that I have no experience with mutism so I'm really sorry if I got anything wrong!

Will Graham had never seen his psychiatrist rattled before now, but the fact of the matter was that Hannibal Lecter hadn’t spoken for over seven days. Not a single word. 

Every appointment bar Will’s own had been cancelled, every meeting missed. Hannibal had stayed holed up in either his office or his home for a week, avoiding contact that wasn’t necessary completely. Even that which would normally be deemed necessary had been put off. 

On a strategic drive past both Hannibal’s house and his office, Will noticed that only one light was on. It was coming from the study in Hannibal’s brownstone home. Usually, interrupting someone during a tough time was rude, but Will couldn’t help but feel responsible.

He had shown him the picture of the little girl after all.

This case was hard, really hard. Child killers were always the most difficult to face, but Will hadn’t, however, expected Hannibal to be as affected by it as he had been. 

The change was immediate. With muscles locked and hands shaking, Hannibal had escorted him to the door without a word and closed it behind him. Will had left feeling confused and dejected, but figured that there had to be a reason behind it. There always was. 

Now, standing outside Hannibal’s home as he had done several hundred times before, Will felt nervous. He hugged his arms around his chest and took a deep breath before reaching out and knocking three times and then once more. It was a telltale sign of who it was. He knew he’d have to be specific if he had any hope of being let in. 

Thankfully, a few minutes later, the door creaked open and Hannibal Lecter revealed himself, eyes sunken and tired as he stood there in the shadows. Will sighed softly, frowning at the sight. Hannibal Lecter, usually so well dressed, wore only pyjamas without socks, sweater sleeves pulled down over his hands. He looked devastated. 

“Hey…” Will whispered softly, biting his lip gently, “Don’t worry, I don’t want you to talk. We’re more than our words.” He gave a half smile which was unenthusiastically mirrored by Hannibal as he opened the door wider for Will to come inside which he did. 

Once across the threshold, Will could see the difference in the house. A home, usually bright and warm, was now cold and dark, devoid of the usual personality and grandeur. It seemed closer to something out of a gothic horror story. 

Will took his coat off and hung it up by the door before beginning to walk towards the study where Hannibal had probably been living for the past few days. The cold in the house told Will that it hadn’t been heated in at least three days which led him to believe that the fireplace in the study had been the only one lit. That also meant that Hannibal probably hadn’t eaten in a while which was extremely worrying. 

“You go back to the study and pour out two glasses of whiskey, okay? I’m going to go and make some food. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, but I think you should.” He looked to Hannibal and felt his heart sink slightly. Now that he could see him properly, he could see the full extent of the low Hannibal was experiencing. He looked thin and dehydrated. His hair was greasy and unbrushed and his fingernails had been bitten down to the bed. It was pitiful. “Scrap the whiskey… I’m going to get you a glass of water and some tea.” He whispered. Hannibal nodded only slightly and began walking to the study, his usual straight back now hunched over slightly. 

What the fuck had Will done to him?

He let out a shaky breath and walked to the kitchen, turning on the lights. After a week, he was sure that there wasn’t going to be much in the way of food inspiration, but he’d do his best. It was sad to see the kitchen this way, void of Hannibal’s usual warmth.

In the end, the best he could do was some frozen soup which he heated through in a pot and a couple of breadsticks that he found at the back of the pantry. It wasn’t a culinary masterpiece, but it would do the job. He placed the two bowls and cups of tea on a tray. He’d come back for the glass of water afterwards. 

-

The study was dark now, lit only by the fire in the fireplace and Will cringed slightly at the state of it. There were books strewn all over the desk, blankets on the floor and abandoned glasses littering the side tables. So he had been drinking. Will hoped that alcohol wasn’t the only fluid that he was drinking, but he feared that may be so.

He set the tray down on the largely uncluttered side table and gestured toward it with a nervous smile.

“I did my best but there wasn’t really much for me to work with. Try and eat a little bit. I know you might not want to, but think of all the times I wasn’t feeling well and you made sure I ate well. Consider this my way of reciprocating your kindness.” Hannibal smiled slightly then which caused Will to smile too, a genuine smile. 

He began cleaning up then, gathering up the glasses from the table and bringing them to the kitchen to wash up. Once everything was washed and dried he went back to the study, happy to find Hannibal eating his soup, legs pulled up in a crisscross beneath him. 

“I hope it’s heated the whole way through.” He mumbled slightly and Hannibal just shrugged. The lack of back and forth felt odd, but Will wasn’t going to push him. That was just cruel. He hoped that he’d be able to coax a few words out of him once he had proven himself worthy. 

His own soup abandoned, Will began putting books away, placing them on the shelves in order of size and colour as they always needed to be. He then set about folding the blankets and setting them down on one of the armchairs. After that, the room looked somewhat like it usually did. 

“Can I turn one of the lamps on? If not that’s okay, but I feel like you might be able to see your tea better if I turn a lamp on.” When he received a nod, he switched the lamp farthest away from Hannibal on and sat down beside him on the sofa, keeping his distance. Will had a lot of experience working with jittery suspects and victims. He didn’t want to startle Hannibal. 

He ate a few spoonfuls of soup and offered the rest to Hannibal who took it gently in his hands, starting to eat again. Will waited until he had finished before beginning to speak again.

“I’m sorry for showing her to you. I didn’t realise that it would affect you this way. Of course that isn’t an excuse. I shouldn’t be sharing crime scene photos with you anyway. I shouldn’t share them with anyone, but I always saw you as someone who had already seen everything, who wouldn’t be too upset having to see the things I’ve seen.” He sighed slightly, looking at Hannibal.

“The thing is, I’ve felt what it’s like to be alone with these cases. Before you came into my life, I was plagued by them every single day so believe me when I tell you that whatever you’re feeling, I’ve felt too.” 

“You haven’t.” The meek reply came, voice hoarse with disuse. Will frowned deeply, confused.

“I’m sorry?” He asked softly, taking a sip from his teacup and finding it bitter in his mouth. He forgot the sugar. 

He heard Hannibal clear his throat and shift in his seat slightly, sitting up straighter, “You haven’t felt what it’s like and I hope that you never will.” Will nodded slightly and moved ever so slightly closer.

“I may not understand, but I can be your friend, Hannibal. I don’t expect you to tell me about any of this, but I can stay here with you.” He whispered softly, reaching out to touch his hand gently. Hannibal twitched slightly at first, but turned his hand over to hold Will’s hand moments later. 

“I had a sister, but I took on a paternal role with her, helping her to grow and learn. She was beautiful, Will.” He sighed softly and, all at once, Will knew why Hannibal had been so affected.

“She died, didn’t she?” He asked softly despite the fact that he knew the answer already. Hannibal swallowed thickly and nodded, pulling his hand away gently in favour of wrapping his arms around his knees instead. The position was so un-Hannibal that, in any other circumstance, Will would have laughed, but right now it merely served to make him feel more pity than he had ever felt in his life.

“Yes. She was killed, much the same as that little girl in the photo. Far more brutal.” He looked into Will’s eyes for a moment before averting his gaze. “When she died, the trauma of our ideal caused me to become a mute as they say. I like to tell myself that it was a protest, that her voice had been taken from her too young and so had mine in solidarity, but I know now that I was simply too traumatised to speak.” Will understood, tears welling up in his eyes slightly. 

“You’re right. I had no idea.” He whispered softly, looking down at his hands. 

“Not many people do. I have locked my past away behind thick walls in my memory palace. You are the first person I have told about her outside of therapy and you are certainly the first person to coax words out of me before I wished to say them. I suppose that this time was different. I made the conscious effort not to speak. This time was certainly a protest.” Hannibal offered him a tear streaked smile and Will found himself reaching out to wipe the already drying tears away. 

“I did say that you didn’t have to talk if you didn’t want to.” He laughed slightly, hand lingering at Hannibal’s sharp cheekbone, made sharper by the lack of food he had taken in the last week. 

“Yes, but then you began speaking so honestly and I had to interject.” He mimicked Will’s laugh with one of his own, bringing a wide smile to Will’s lips. He finally let his hand fall, resting his head on the cushion behind him. Hannibal looked down at the hand that had been touching his face and bit his lip gently. 

“Honesty has always been our best policy, Dr Lecter. Which is why I’m about to make a fool out of myself by asking if you want a hug or something. That’s what people who are sad usually want…” he mumbled softly, feeling his heart start rabbiting in his chest as Hannibal looked up at him.

Instead of a response, Hannibal moved slightly closer, resting his chin on Will’s shoulder with a quiet sigh of ‘Thank you’ into his hair.

Will wrapped his arms around him and closed his eyes, convinced that Hannibal could hear the rapid beating of his heart which caused a blush to creep up onto his cheeks. He buried his nose into Hannibal’s hair and found he wasn’t bothered by the greasiness of it. Hannibal had, after all, seen Will in much worse states than this. Who was he to be picky?

Eventually, they settled into a comfortable position with Hannibal laying between Will’s legs, head on his chest with Will’s arms wrapped tightly around him. The fire was dying down, but neither of them cared too much. They were comfortable and happy together. Will felt an odd sense of calm in his chest that he hadn’t felt before. He felt at home.

Hannibal was beginning to doze off, eyes falling closed as Will held him close. It felt so disgustingly domestic, but Will didn’t care at all. In fact, he felt like he wanted more. 

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” He whispered, gently rousing Hannibal from his slumber with only a small protest from the other man. 

“I’m quite warm here, Will.” Hannibal whined softly, but pulled himself up out of Will’s hold. He stretched out with a long groan and began walking to his room, leaving Will with the dishes. 

“Go up there and get ready for bed. I’ll bring some water up to you in a minute.” He had the odd urge to kiss Hannibal’s cheek or squeeze his arm. He felt like affection was needed, but he resisted temptation. 

Hannibal smiled slightly and walked up to his room. Will doused the flames and turned the light off as he walked to the kitchen to wash up.

-

When he reached the bedroom, Hannibal was already snuggled up under the covers, curled into a ball by the looks of him. Will smiled slightly and set the glass of water down on his bedside table. 

“Are you going to be alright on your own? I can stay in the guest room if you like.” He whispered softly, reaching out to brush stray hairs out of Hannibal’s sleepy eyes only for his wrist to be caught by a gentle hand.

“Stay with me tonight, Will. Hold me.” Will couldn’t help but smile as he nodded slightly. He stood back from the bed and began to undress down to his boxers and undershirt. After folding his clothes and setting them down on a chair, he slipped in under the covers, moving close to Hannibal. 

Suddenly they were facing one another and Hannibal was reaching out to cup Will’s cheek. He smiled softly as Hannibal leaned ever closer, minty toothpaste on his breath as he hesitantly pressed his lips to Will’s. 

“Thank you.” Hannibal whispered softly, tracing Will’s cheekbone with his thumb as Will floundered for words or a response to being kissed by his psychiatrist.

“I couldn’t just leave you to drown in your own self pity, Hannibal. My conscience would never let me.” He mumbled, looking into Hannibal’s eyes briefly before deciding that he didn’t mind the kiss at all, that he wanted more. 

Slowly, he leaned in again and joined their lips, feeling his heart leap in his chest as he brought his hand up to Hannibal’s shoulder, tracing the curve of it as they gradually deepened their kiss. Hannibal’s hand fell to Will’s hip, yanking him closer to his chest. 

He pulled away slightly and smiled up at Hannibal, pecking his lips once to close off their kiss, “Go to sleep. My mouth will still be here in the morning.” He chuckled softly and leaned in again despite his own orders, kissing him again and parting his lips into it. Hannibal took this opportunity to invade his mouth with his tongue, no doubt committing every inch of it to his memory palace.

He pulled back again, “Sleep.” 

Hannibal rolled his eyes slightly yet playfully and pulled a Will in closer, resting their foreheads together as he closed his eyes and settled down to sleep. Will smiled slightly as he played with Hannibal’s hair, admiring his features as Hannibal slipped into sleep. His body soon went lax in Will’s arms and turned around. Will smiled as he tugged the covers up to his chin again and pulled his legs up to his chest. Will pulled Hannibal back into his arms, resting his forehead against his back as he began to try and settle himself. 

“Goodnight, Hannibal.” He whispered softly and smiled when he got no reply. 

Perhaps the best way to mourn those who lost their voices too early was to use your own to its fullest extent. 

Will fell asleep that night feeling stronger than he ever had before. Together, he and Hannibal could silence those who deserved to be silenced. 

Together they could bring voices to those who’s had been ripped from them unjustly. 


End file.
